“My friend in Harrisburg wrote me of your ambition and, I may say, aptness for the forest service. I'm very much pleased. We need a host of bright young fellows. Here, look at this map.” He drew my attention to a map lying on the table, and made crosses and tracings with a pencil while he talked. “This is Penetier. Here are the Arizona Peaks. The heavy shading represents timbered land. All these are canyons. Here's Oak Creek Canyon, the one the fire bordered. Now I want you to tell me how you worked that back-fire, and, if you can, mark the line you fired.” This appeared to me an easy task, and certainly one I was enthusiastic over. I told him just how I had come to the canyon, and how I saw that the fire would surely cross there, and that a back-fire was the only chance. Then, carefully studying the map, I marked off the three miles Herky and I had fired. “Very good. You had help in this?” “Yes. A fellow called Herky-Jerky. He was one of Buell's men who kept me a prisoner.” “But he turned out a pretty good sort, didn't he?” “Indeed, yes, sir.” “Well, I'll try to locate him, and offer him a job in the service. Now, Mr. Ward, you've had special opportunities; you have an eye in your head, and you are interested in forestry. Perhaps you can help us. Personally I shall be most pleased to hear what you think might be done in Penetier.” I gasped and stared, and could scarcely believe my ears. But he was not joking; he was as serious as if he had addressed himself to one of his officers. I looked at them all, standing interested and expectant. Dick was as grave and erect as a deacon. Jim seemed much impressed. But old Hiram Bent, standing somewhat back of the others, deliberately winked at me. But for that wink I never could have seized my opportunity. It made me remember my talks with Hiram. So I boiled down all that I had learned and launched it on the Chief. Whether I was brief or not, I was out of breath when I stopped. He appeared much surprised. “Thank you,” he said, finally. “You certainly have been observant.” Then he turned to his officers. “Gentlemen, here's a new point of view from first-hand observation. I call it splendid conservation. It's in the line of my policy. It considers the settler and lumberman instead of combating him.” He shook hands with me again. “You may be sure I'll not lose sight of you. Of course you will be coming West next summer, after your term at college?” “Yes, sir, I want to--if Dick--” He smiled as I hesitated. That man read my mind like an open book. “Mr. Leslie goes to the Coconina Forest as head forest ranger. Mr. Williams goes as his assistant. And I have appointed Mr. Bent game warden in the same forest. You may spend next summer with them.” I stammered some kind of thanks, and found myself going out and down-stairs with my friends. “Oh, Dick! Wasn't he fine?... Say, where's Coconina Forest?”